Babysitter for a Day
by I'm Still So Deep
Summary: With the promise of a 'reward' from Bulma, Vegeta agrees to babysit Bra. Unfortunately, Bra's ideas of fun are very different from Vegeta's. One-shot. Contains some Bulma x Vegeta moments as well.


A/N: I finally got around to posting a new story, yay! I was a little hesitant with this one, since I never before have written a humorous Vegebul fic. Vegeta is already a hard enough character to write for, and putting him in a humorous situation while keeping him in character was a bit difficult for me, but hopefully I was able to pull it off. This is also the first time I have ever written for Bra, and I hope I also captured her and Vegeta's adorable relationship accurately. Well, enough of my ramblings, hope you guys enjoy this story!

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or any of its characters.

* * *

The sun was rising outside of the opened window of Bulma and Vegeta's room, but for once the Saiyan Prince didn't instantly arise at the break of dawn. He never needed to use an alarm clock; his Saiyan instincts always alerted him of when it was time to wake up and get his day started. And he knew in that moment it was time to end his slumber, but his eyes remained closed. He had been training just a mere three hours ago in the GR, pushing himself as hard as he could, determined to not let his training be influenced by recent times of peace. He was exhausted, and was going to allow himself a rare treat of sleeping in a little later than usual.

Until something on top of his chest cut into his plans.

 _What the fuck?_

He slowly opened his ebony eyes and saw his five-year-old daughter cheerfully jumping up and down on his chiseled chest. It didn't hurt him of course, he could barely feel it, but it was still damn annoying. "Daddy, wake up, wake up!" Bra shouted.

Not being in the mood to deal with his daughter at the moment, he reached out for Bulma's side of the bed and was going to nudge her awake, but he was surprised to find an empty space. _Where in the hell is that blasted woman?_

Right on cue, Bulma appeared from their private bathroom, dressed in business attire. She smiled at the sight before her and couldn't help but cackle. Vegeta's grumpy expression was too adorable, and Bra was completely clueless to the irritation she was causing her father. But she knew Vegeta had a soft spot for their daughter, and she could tell he wasn't as annoyed as he would have been in the past by such a thing occurring. She then looked at herself in her vanity mirror and pulled her blouse down a little farther so that more cleavage was exposed, which Vegeta caught sight of out of the corner of his eye. "Hon, I have a meeting in Central City I have to go to this morning, and I need you to watch Bra until I get back," she stated casually, grabbing a tube of red lipstick and applying it to her full lips.

"Why can't Trunks do it?" Vegeta asked with a scowl, gently grabbing Bra around her tiny waist and placing her down off the bed.

"He spent the night at Goten's last night, and he won't be back until later today. Chi-Chi texted me and said the boys were out all night driving in Trunks' new car. I just hope he won't wreck it like his last one," she responded, spraying a decent amount of perfume onto herself. Vegeta shook his head the best he could lying down at that. Their teenage son really was too spoiled. He let out a string of curses as he sat up in the bed and began to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Bulma approached him and glowered, placing her hands on her hips. "What have I told you about using that kind of language in front of our daughter? I don't want her turning into a potty mouth," she scolded him.

"Like _you're_ one to talk, woman," Vegeta retorted with a small smirk.

"Mommy, I'm hungry," Bra cut in, tugging on the end of Bulma's skirt.

Bulma smiled down at her daughter and gently ruffled her soft hair. "Okay, sweetie, just give me a couple of minutes, and I'll be right there."

"Okay!" the little girl exclaimed, exiting the room and racing down the stairs towards the kitchen. Vegeta observed how fast his daughter was for her age and a small grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

Vegeta attempted to walk past his wife, but Bulma stepped out in front of him. He quirked an eyebrow at her actions, watching her closely as she wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her tiptoes so that her fantastic chest was closer to his face. Her sweet scent reached his nostrils, her smile alluring as her sparkling eyes met his. He knew exactly what she was doing, and it had rarely failed in the past.

"Sooo, Vegeta," she began in a low voice, trailing her index finger all the way down his bare chest, grinning as he was barely able to suppress a shudder, "if you watch Bra I promise I'll give you a reward. I know that usually babysitters are given cash for their services, but I'll give you something better." She gently licked the sensitive skin below his ear, knowing that was a weakness of his. "Would you like a tasty midnight snack later this evening?"

The composure he had tried to maintain was instantly gone at her words, and he could feel his manhood erect against the fabric of sweatpants. He knew she wasn't referring to food; what she was offering was far more appetizing than any meal could ever hope to be. Wanting to seal the deal, she tilted her head upwards and gave him a deep, passionate kiss, which he automatically responded to, hauling her up against him. His fingers ran over her skirt teasingly, just barely tickling her covered sweet spot. Bulma let out a husky moan as she hesitantly pulled away from him, not wanting to get too carried away since she only had a few minutes to spare before she needed to leave.

"Well, is that enough to persuade you to babysit?" she asked with a small smile, wiping smeared lipstick off the corner of his mouth with her thumb.

A defeated sigh escaped his lips. "You better keep up your end of the deal, woman."

"Oh, I will. Don't you worry," she winked.

Vegeta gave her a long look before exiting the bedroom wordlessly, mentally cursing at how easily he gave into her. He entered the kitchen a few moments later and found that Bulma already had food prepared on the counter for him. Bra was waiting patiently at the kitchen table for Bulma to make a plate for her, playing a game on her mother's phone. Vegeta exhaled deeply as he began scooping eggs onto his plate. He could only imagine what the day would entail.

The sound of Bulma's heels clicking against the tile floor made him pause his gathering of food, looking over his shoulder at her. She reached over him to grab a plate, laughing inwardly as his eyes focused on her cleavage. "Bra, how many pancakes do you want?" she asked the half-Saiyan.

"I want ten!" Bra chirped, looking up from her mother's phone.

Vegeta couldn't help but smirk at that. She had definitely inherited his appetite.

Bulma didn't even seemed phased by the bountiful request, having grown very used to the massive amount of food her family consumed on a daily basis. She quickly gathered the pancakes onto the plate and pinched Vegeta's buttcheek before walking over to their daughter, laughing at the glare Vegeta directed at her.

"There you go, baby girl, that should you fill you up until lunchtime, which hopefully I'll be home around that time," she smiled, placing the plate in front of Bra and taking her phone from her. Vegeta came over and sat down across from his daughter, wasting no time as he began to dig into his food. Bulma watched as her husband and daughter ate at the same speed, grinning at how alike they were. _Daddy's little girl_.

"I've gotta leave now," Bulma announced after checking the time on her cellphone. She reached for her Chanel bag on the counter and dug out her car keys. "This hopefully won't take too long, maybe four hours tops."

"Hn," Vegeta grunted, not even bothering to look up at her.

"You better behave yourself, okay?"

"I'll make sure she does," Vegeta answered, thinking she was speaking to their daughter.

"I was referring to you!" Bulma chuckled.

"Damn woman. . ." Vegeta muttered under his breath. Bulma ignored his remark and kissed the top of his head before hugging him. She did the same to Bra, telling them both that she loved them, and then exited the house through the front door.

After hearing Bulma open the garage and speed off in her car, Vegeta released a groan as he shoved his last bite of food into his mouth. _That blasted woman. . .her legs better be spread tonight because that's the only reason I'm doing this. I'm the Prince of all Saiyans. . .I don't babysit!_

"Daddy?"

Vegeta looked over at his daughter, those sapphire eyes that resembled Bulma's shining as she grinned at him. "What is it, Bra?" he inquired as he placed his fork down beside his plate.

A roaring burp sounded from the tiny girl before she answered, startling Vegeta. "Will you play with me today?" Bra requested sweetly.

"Nope," came his quick reply.

"Play with me, pleeease!"

"Bra, I said no."

"PLAY WITH ME!" she screeched, pounding her fist down on the table.

The Saiyan Prince's sensitive hearing caused him to wince at Bra's high-pitched tone. She was definitely Bulma's daughter, that was for sure. Only they were capable of reaching such ear-piercing decibels with their voices. Vegeta leaned back slightly in his chair and ran a hand down the side of his face. _Goddammit, this is going to be one long ass day._

Bra's frown then morphed into a pleading look, her tiny hands clasped out in front of her. "Please, Daddy, pleaseeeeeee!"

 _She's just like her mother. . ._

"Fine," he spat pushing himself up from the table and bringing his plate to the sink. Nothing or no one on Earth could turn him into a sap like his daughter could. The little girl had greater power over him than even Bulma did. Oh, how he loathed the female species. Hopefully nothing Bra had in mind would be too torturous. Hopefully being the key word.

"Yippee!" Bra cheered, running up to Vegeta and squeezing his leg. "We'll have SO much fun, Daddy!"

"Oh, I'm sure we will," Vegeta mumbled sarcastically, tugging his leg out of her grasp. "Before we do anything, you need to get changed into some clothes. You're not going to walk around all day in your pajamas."

Bra looked down at her Hello Kitty onesie and nodded. "Oooh, I know just what I'm going to wear!" she smiled, running up the stairs to her room.

Vegeta sighed and felt half-tempted to grab a bottle of beer as he walked past the refrigerator. He cared immensely for his daughter, of course, but babysitting was not his forte. When Bulma had left him in charge of Trunks when he was a boy it wasn't that hard to deal with; he would just train him. Bra was a whole other story. He had yet to start training his daughter, and he honestly wasn't sure when he would. He didn't feel an obsessive need to make her strong like he did with Trunks. He was much more lenient with Bra than he ever was with his son. Perhaps it was because he wasn't as uptight as he was all those years ago.

He entered the room he shared with Bulma and went into the closet to get dressed. When he came out, he was greeted by Bra who was wearing a blue dress that Bulma had laid out for her earlier that morning and. . . tiny heels?

"Bra. . .what are you wearing on your feet?" he quizzed slowly.

"Oh, these?" she giggled, following his line of vision. "Mommy bought me these last week! They're training heels! I want to be just like Mama!"

"You might want to rethink that," Vegeta deadpanned.

"Huh?"

"Nothing," he muttered, exiting the room. Bra followed right behind him slowly, doing her best to strut in her heels down the stairs. Vegeta glanced back over his shoulder at his daughter and rolled his eyes. That blasted woman was going to make their daughter just as vain as she was. Once they entered the living room, Vegeta flopped down onto the couch, massaging his forehead as Bra began to fumble around her toy chest in the corner of the room. _Gods, help me_.

"Do you want to play Barbies? You can be Ken!"

"No," he snapped.

"I have a Justin Bieber doll if you don't want to be Ken."

"NO!"

"There's not much left of him, anyway. Goten and Trunks were meanies and blasted his head off!" Bra sniffled, tossing the decapitated doll back into her toy box.

Vegeta stifled a chuckle at that. His eyes then darted over to the clock hanging on the wall. It had only been a little over thirty minutes since Bulma left. He estimated that she wouldn't be home for at least another three-and-a-half hours. _Shit_.

"OH I KNOW!" Bra squealed loudly, nearly giving Vegeta a heart attack. "My ballet recital is tomorrow, and you can help me practice!" She then held up two sparkly pink tutus, skipping as she made her way over to her father.

"I will NOT wear that under ANY circumstances!" Vegeta shouted, wildly waving his hands out in front of him as his daughter tried to hand him one of the tutus. He would rather have a thousand slimy, disgusting worms crawl all over his body than ever wear that frilly monstrosity.

Bra looked down at one of the tutus in her hand, puzzled by his reaction. "Mommy told me a story one time that she gave you a pink shirt a long time ago, and that you loved it so much! So why won't you wear a pink tutu?!"

The memory of the whole pink 'badman' shirt was enough to make Vegeta cringe. Gods, how he hated the woman back then for making him ever wear such a thing. And yet somehow, even though he despised her so much all those years ago for doing such a deplorable thing, he ended up forming a family with her of all people. He swore Bulma was practicing witchcraft secretly; that was the only logical thing he could conclude for the hold she had over him.

"Do not listen to your mother's asinine ramblings," Vegeta muttered, shaking his head. "I do NOT wear pink, especially a damn pink tutu of all things!"

At first, Bra's eyes welled up with tears, her bottom lip quivering. And then, as though a lightbulb had gone off in her head, she placed both hands on her hips, a prominent scowl on her face. She forcefully grabbed his wrists, a move that stunned Vegeta, and placed the tutu into his hands. "Now, Daddy YOU listen!" she demanded, pointing her finger at him. "If you do NOT wear this tutu I'm going to tell Mommy that you were a meanie-head, and then you'll be in BIG trouble!"

Vegeta flinched, his eyes widening. The whole reason he even agreed to babysitting in the first place was so he could get the tempting 'midnight snack' Bulma was offering him. And if Bra went and told Bulma that he was 'mean' then that would surely interfere with his reward, which was the last thing he wanted. His whole day would truly be wasted if that were to occur.

The little girl's glare never wavered as he stared back at her. She was doing her best to appear daunting, and it was slightly working. A five-year-old almost appeared more intimidating to him than some of his worst enemies. That made him proud, actually. His daughter had quite a commanding presence; she was definitely worthy of her Saiyan heritage.

He buried his face into his hands momentarily, sighing in frustration. When he lifted his head back up, he glared down at the tutu in his lap before speaking. "Don't you _dare_ tell anyone about this. Do you understand me, Bra?"

The scowl on Bra's face dissipated at his words, and was replaced with a victorious grin, similar to the same one Bulma taunted him with after she won an argument. "I won't!" she swore, putting on her own tutu. Vegeta grumbled as he stood up, his grip tightening around the pink garment in his hand. He silently wondered how he got to this point in his life. He was a proud warrior when he first came to Earth, who delighted in extricating planets and making others suffer at his bare hands. And now, here he was: easily giving into his brat's demands and putting on a fucking pink tutu because she necessitated it. It was pathetic.

"Go on, Daddy, put it on!" Bra urged as she slipped into her ballet slippers.

Vegeta muttered a string of curses in his native language, raking his free hand through his hair. Bra watched quietly as Vegeta pulled the curtains closed, making sure that no one was able to witness this. He could feel his pride vanishing as he stepped into the tutu, looking as though he had just swallowed poison as he secured it around his waist. He never thought any article of clothing would ever be as demeaning as that damn pink shirt, but he was wrong. Dead wrong.

"Daddy, you look so pretty!" Bra applauded with a clap of her hands.

"I am NOT pretty! Don't ever say that to me again!" Vegeta spluttered with an icy glare.

But Bra didn't feel the least bit intimidated by her father, and giggled as she took his hand and brought him to the center of the room. "I just got to move this," she said, gesturing with her chin to the coffee table. Without even letting Vegeta say a word, with great ease she pushed the heavy table against the wall. The Saiyan prince just gaped down at his daughter in amazement, impressed with the amount of strength she displayed. She was nowhere near as strong as Trunks was when he was her age, but it was still quite a feat nonetheless.

"Okay," she began as she turned her attention back to her father, "I'm ready now! You can do the dance with me if you want!"

"Absolutely not," Vegeta huffed, crossing his arms.

"Mommy said you're a good dancer! She told me one time you did a bingo dance and—"

"HUSH!" he ordered, alarming Bra with the severity in his tone. "I'm going to put a muzzle on your mother if she doesn't stop telling you these things!"

Bra stared up at Vegeta with an indifferent expression and then shrugged. "Fine. I'll just practice, and you can stand there all grumpy. You'll miss out on a lot of fun!"

"I'll live," he retorted with a scowl.

"I don't have the music my teacher plays, so I'll just sing it myself," Bra uttered, getting herself into starting position, pointing her toes. "LA LA LA LA LA LA LA," Bra warbled as she began to spin around Vegeta.

The Prince of all Saiyans kept his eyes on the wall clock, his eyes watching every movement of its hands.

Every.

Single.

Slow.

Movement.

A little over an hour had passed, and Bra was still practicing her routine. He inwardly groaned at the fact that he would have to sit through this yet again at her recital tomorrow night, yet thankfully he would NOT be clad in a tutu. Vegeta then sensed Trunks' ki signature fast approaching the front door, and before he could react, his son entered the house, juggling his car keys in his hands. Once Trunks caught sight of his father and sister across the room, his jaw practically hit the floor. His eyes were so wide that they nearly popped out of his head, his keys dropping to the floor.

Trunks didn't say anything for a few moments, too shocked to even form a sentence. Bra paused in her movements and beamed at her big brother. "Hi, Trunks! You want to play with us?"

After staring at his father unblinkingly for a few more seconds, a roar of laughter sounded from Trunks, so loud that it echoed throughout the entire house. Vegeta's glare darkened at his son, his fists clenched at his sides. "HOLY SHIT HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA," Trunks hooted manically, holding his sides.

"Stop your cackling right now, boy!" Vegeta instructed.

"Oh, man," Trunks wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes as he ignored his father's warning. "I've got to send a Snapchat of this to Goten!" He managed to dig his phone out of his pocket in time to take a picture and send it to Goten before Vegeta jerked the phone out of his hands. Trunks watched in horror as his father easily crushed his brand new phone into hundreds of pieces.

"Dad, why did you have to break my phone?!"

"Your bones will be the next things to break if you don't go up to your room right now!" Vegeta threatened, his anger clearly evident in his black eyes.

Trunks knew that look in his father's eyes all too well, and groaned as he turned to go up the stairs. As he reached his bedroom, he burst into another round of laughter that he wasn't able to smother, and Vegeta's sensitive ears instantly caught wind of it.

"GODDAMMIT, TRUNKS! DO NOT MAKE ME WARN YOU AGAIN!"

The laughter instantaneously ceased, much to Vegeta's satisfaction.

Vegeta then tore off the tutu, which made Bra gasp. "I refuse to wear this wretched thing for another second," he growled.

Bra looked down at the ripped fabric on the floor and sighed. "Oh, Daddy, you didn't have to rip it!"

"It's not like we can't afford a new one," Vegeta snapped, massaging his temples.

"Hmph," was the only response he got from Bra. She then took off her own tutu and placed it back into her toy box along with her ballet slippers. Her smile then returned to her face as she hopped over to her father. "Do you want to have a tea party?" she asked, swaying from side to side.

"Gods, no!" he barked.

"Remember what I said about telling Mommy you were a meanie-head. . ."

 _Shit!_

". . .Fine, whatever," he groused, taking a seat on the couch.

"Can Trunks come to the tea party?"

A smirk appeared on his face. "Why, yes, Bra I think that would be a splendid idea."

If he had to suffer through this, his son would have to, too.

"Yay! I'll go get him!" she called over her shoulder, racing up the stairs. She approached her brother's door and knocked on it softly. The door opened slowly and Trunks appeared, staring down at her with a worried expression. "Oh, God, am I in trouble with Dad again?" he inquired.

Bra shook her head, her pigtails swinging around as she did so. "No, but me and Daddy are going to have a tea party, and we want you to come!"

Trunks made a sour face. "Uh, no. Sorry, kiddo, I got better things to do in my spare time."

"Trunks!"

The sound of his father's exacting voice floated up the stairs, causing the demi-Saiyan to freeze in place. "Crap," Trunks muttered, pushing his bangs back out of his eyes. He exhaled deeply as he followed his little sister down the stairs. Vegeta smirked as he saw the incensed look on his son's face. "So glad you could join us, Trunks," he chuckled wickedly.

"Dad, do I _really_ have to do this?! I need to go buy a new phone since you broke mine. I've been texting this really hot girl from school all day, and I have a date with her tonight!"

"You should have thought about that before you dared to take a picture of me in one of my lowest moments, which never would have happened if you would've been here this morning to babysit your sister!" Vegeta shouted, having zero sympathy for his son.

Knowing it was best not to argue, Trunks didn't say another word and sat down on the opposite end of the couch, glaring down at the floor. Bra pulled her plastic tea set with Disney princesses on it out of her toy box. She then, once again with complete ease, moved the coffee table so it was back in the center of the room and began to set up her tea set. Once she was all done she looked up at Vegeta and Trunks. "It's all ready," she smiled, gesturing with her hand for them to come over.

The two males gave each other a glance and then sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the table. She couldn't decipher which one of them looked more miserable. "I know what will _really_ make this a fun party!" She then pulled out an assortment of costume jewelry and clothes from her toy box, placing it all down on the table. She wrapped a purple boa around her neck, and then put a sparkling plastic pink crown on top of her head. "I'm going to pretend to be a successful, beautiful, rich lady," she explained, slipping a fake diamond ring on her finger. "Just like my Mommy!"

Vegeta rolled his eyes at that. No doubt the child had overheard Bulma brag about herself like that. His eyes then widened as she handed him a frilly straw hat with a large sunflower on it. Vegeta looked back and forth between her and the hat before shaking his head. "I refuse to wear that," he declared. His lips then curved upwards as he glanced at his son. "But I'm sure Trunks would be more than _happy_ to wear it, right, son?"

"What?! I—"

The cautionary look he received from Vegeta instantly ceased his protesting. He allowed his sister to place the hat on his head, grumbling under his breath. "You can pretend to be Mrs. Nesbitt, my assistant that I'm nice enough to have tea with!" Bra stated with a toothy grin.

"What the heck?! Why do I have to be a woman?!"

"Because _I_ said so!"

Trunks looked to his father for help, but Vegeta could barely smother a chuckle as he looked back at him. _Dammit, Dad. . ._

Bra then handed Vegeta a pair of plastic green sunglasses. "Here, Daddy, you can just be yourself wearing sunglasses."

"Why does he get to be himself?!" Trunks objected, adjusting the falling hat on his head.

Vegeta shot Trunks a dark look, to which the half-Saiyan nearly cringed at. Trunks adverted his eyes and crossed his arms, silently fuming. The prince took the sunglasses and placed them over his eyes, even though they were incredibly small. Trunks had it far worse than him so he decided not to make any complaints, even though a pretend tea party still wasn't his cup of tea.

 _Ha._

"This would be somewhat tolerable if this was filled with beer," Trunks mumbled as he stared down at the cup in front of him.

"When have you ever had beer?" Vegeta questioned with raised eyebrows.

Trunks sweat-dropped. "Oh, uh, I haven't. Never, ever. . .ever!"

"I don't know what beer is, but I promise you my tea is better!" Bra smiled, tilting the plastic tea kettle down towards Trunks' cup. "Now have a sip of it!"

"A sip of _what_?" Trunks asked sarcastically, gesturing with his chin at the empty plastic cup. "There's nothing in there, Bra."

Bra huffed and crossed her arms, in the same manner Vegeta always did. "That's why it's called pretend! Now, drink your tea."

A long sigh sounded from Trunks as he brought the cup up to his lips and pretended to take a sip. "Wow, this is sooooooo good. Yep, mhm. This hits the spot," he responded in a monotone voice.

"You're supposed to be Mrs. Nesbitt, remember?! You can't talk in your normal voice! You're supposed to sound like a lady!" Bra scolded.

"Dad, haven't I already suffered enough?" Trunks implored, turning to his father.

"You can suffer just a tad bit more," Vegeta smirked devilishly.

 _I swear to God, when Dad least expects it I will get him back for this!_

Bra smiled at her father and then turned back to Trunks, adjusting the crown on her head before speaking. "Now, _Mrs. Nesbitt_ , how was your day today?"

"Oh, it was just peachy," Trunks responded in a high-pitch voice, nearly making Vegeta laugh out loud. "I have no connection to the outside world because my cell phone was demolished, and my soul is bleeding from the current humiliation I feel. Yeah, today is just grand. Maybe later tonight I'll paint my nails neon pink and sing some groovy Hannah Montana songs!" he stated sarcastically with a fake smile.

"Sounds like fun, Mrs. Nesbitt!" Bra exclaimed. She then looked over at Vegeta, who was trying desperately to contain his laughter at his son's mortification. "And how was your day today, Daddy?"

"It's been just swell," Vegeta deadpanned, staring down at the empty cup in front of him.

"I'm glad!" the little girl beamed, taking a pretend sip of her cup, completely unaware that her brother and father's responses were pure sarcasm.

For the next hour, Vegeta and Trunks complied with Bra's wishes and did as they were told during the pretend tea party, much to her delight. Finally, the tea party came to an end, and Bra put up all her belongings, much to Trunks' relief, since he had nearly lost his voice from having to talk in such a high-pitch tone for that long. He scratched his head as Bra took the hat from him. "That stupid thing made my head itch!" he fumed, trying to fix his lavender hair back to its usual flawless appearance.

"It's never bothered me before," Bra shrugged, placing it back into her toy box.

Vegeta then jerked his head towards the door and scowled. "Your idiot friend is here, boy."

"I know, I can sense him approaching the door," Trunks answered, his voice sounding merrier than it had all day, knowing that with his best friend's arrival he could escape the hell he had endured the past hour.

The doorbell rang a few seconds later, and Trunks opened it quickly. "Dude, thank God you're here. I need to get the hell out of this house!"

Goten gave him a curious look and leaned against the doorframe. "What happened to your phone? I tried calling you, but it wouldn't even ring or go to voicemail."

Trunks gestured with a tilt of his head at Vegeta, who was standing a few feet away saying something to Bra. "Ohhhhh," Goten nodded in understanding. "Was it because of that Snapchat you sent me? Dude, that was fucking hilarious, I nearly pissed in my pants! I managed to screenshot it, too!"

"What are you two talking about?" Vegeta asked with narrowed eyes.

"Nothing!" Trunks said, waving his hands out in front of him. "Uh, Dad would it be okay if Goten and I hang out?"

"You two were just with each other earlier!"

"Yeah, but, no offense I'd rather be anywhere but here. And I need to buy a new phone or else my hot date will purposely think I'm ignoring her!"

"Not my problem."

"Dad, pleeeeeeeease! I'll do anything you want, I mean it! But please, I really like this girl, and I don't want to mess this up."

Vegeta drummed his fingers against his bicep as he stared at his son, seeing the pleading lurking in Trunks' azure orbs. _Goddammit, I really am getting too soft._ With a sigh, Vegeta nodded. "Fine, whatever. But sometime soon, your mother and I will be going on a trip by ourselves, and _you'll_ be the one left here to babysit your sister, do you understand me?"

Trunks groaned, but nodded as he grabbed his car keys. "Okay, fine. Fair enough."

And with that, Trunks and Goten exited the house, the sound of Trunks' sports car burning rubber on the driveway a few seconds later nearly startling Vegeta. The Saiyan prince shook his head and looked back at his daughter, who was staring up at him.

"Daddy, will you train me sometime soon?"

Vegeta's eyes grew at her question, slightly taken aback. "You want to train?"

Bra nodded in response. "Trunks told me that he started training when he was old enough to walk. I'm five, and you haven't even said anything about training me. Why?"

"It's a different situation with you than it was with Trunks. He's a—"

"BOY?!"

One of his eyebrows cocked up at the brashness in her voice, her hands placed defiantly on her hips as she stared up at him. She looked so much like Bulma in that moment, the same agitated expression on her face that her mother would have anytime she was angry with him. She was definitely his wife's mini-me. "Bra, listen, I—"

Bra barely gave him time to answer before she started speaking again. "Daddy, I'm a perfect little lady like Mommy tells me, but I want to be a fighter someday too, just like you and Trunks! Don't treat me different because I'm a girl!"

A sense of pride rushed through Vegeta's veins as he looked down at his daughter, her face full of determination. He squatted down to her eyelevel and placed a hand on her shoulder, his eyes displaying a rare warmth. "Bra, I don't treat you differently simply because you are a female. When your brother was a toddler, things were very different. . .I was different. I was so obsessed with wanting him to be stronger than Goten, and at times I probably pushed him too hard. When you were born, I wasn't as harsh as I was all those years ago, and I wanted to be more lenient with my second child than I was with my first. I didn't see a need to push you to train at an early age, that's why you haven't been trained yet. But, it pleases me to see you taking an interest in it."

The frown Bra had on her face was wiped clean, replaced with a dazzling smile, her eyes shining brightly. "So you'll train me?" she asked, clasping her hands together.

Vegeta looked her over before standing back up. He absolutely would not put her through the ringer like he did with Trunks, but he would make sure that she did get some useful lessons in. She was already displaying a commendable amount of strength for her age, so he was rather excited to train with her. "Yes, little one," he responded with a brief, rare smile.

"YIPEEE!" she cheered, leaping a foot into the air.

"We'll start tomorrow," he replied, glancing at the wall clock, seeing that it wouldn't be much longer before Bulma returned.

"Yay! Can't wait!" she cheered with a smile, following him into the kitchen. She watched as he dug around the refrigerator, grabbing a bottle of water towards the back. "Daddy?" she questioned, making circles on the floor with her foot.

"What is it now, Bra?" he asked indolently after taking a sip of water.

"You're a prince, right?"

"Yes."

"So. . .that makes Mommy a princess, right?"

"Technically. . ."

"I see. . ."

Vegeta leaned back against the counter, giving her a suspicious look. "Why are you asking me this?"

"Well, Mommy was reading me a fairytale about a prince and a princess last night. And she was telling me about how you're a prince, even though she said you aren't as, uh, what was that word she used? Oh, right! She said you aren't as charming as the prince in the story."

He merely rolled his eyes and shook his head. "That damn woman. . ." he muttered under his breath.

"The prince in the story rescued the princess from an evil wizard man," Bra spoke softly, "so. . .if you're a prince and Mommy is a princess, did you rescue her from anything?"

A chocking sound escaped Vegeta, prompting him to drink more water. The child's question had really caught him off guard. Bra had zero idea about his dark past, or the circumstances surrounding how Bulma and Vegeta came to be. Their love story was not a fairytale of any kind, not even close. The beginning was rather messy, actually. They both were using each other for just for sex originally. And while he knew the woman probably even back then had feelings for him, he had none for her, at all. He was just a man that had needs that needed to be met, and she was the only woman around; it didn't hurt that she wasn't bad to look at either. Even the birth of their son wasn't enough to make Vegeta care for her. It was a very long, grueling process Bulma underwent to get Vegeta to come around, and he had to admit he commended her for how much she endured in those earlier years of their relationship. She was a beautiful woman, with a shitload of money; she could have easily had any man on the planet that she wanted. Yet, for some reason, she chose him, despite how poorly he treated her back then. She never gave up on him, not once. Her resilience obviously would later pay off, but he still just couldn't believe how fiercely devoted she had been to him at their darkest times.

"No," Vegeta finally answered, peering down at the floor.

"Oh," Bra said quietly, looking a bit forlorn.

"She saved me. . ."

Vegeta's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he realized he not only admitted that, but he had said it out loud as well. It had just slipped out of him, without him even realizing he was confessing such a thing. He looked frantically down at Bra, who looked like she was about to gush, squealing in delight.

"Mommy saved you? That's cute!"

"Bra, don't you _dare_ tell your mother I said that! She'll never shut up about it, and—"

"Hello? Vegeta, Bra?"

 _Damn it all!_

He had been so flabbergasted by his own response that he barely had time to sense Bulma's ki as she entered through the front door. Her heels clicked all the way down the hall until she entered the kitchen, looking slightly exhausted. "Mommy!" Bra squeaked, running towards her mother.

Bulma beamed at the sight of her daughter and welcomed her into her arms, hugging her tightly. "Did you and Daddy have fun while I was gone?" she asked, smoothing out Bra's hair.

"Yeah!" Bra replied with a wide smile.

"You're a bit earlier than I expected," Vegeta spoke, glancing over at his wife.

"I cut things a little short," she answered, tossing her purse down onto the counter. "This one guy would not shut up and I couldn't stand to listen to him any longer."

"Hn," he responded, completely uninterested. "Well, now that you're here, I can finally get to my training. I expect you to have food prepared soon."

She snarled and crossed her arms. "Alright, your majesty. You know, since apparently I live to serve you."

"I'm glad you realize that," he smirked, loving nothing more than getting a rise out of her.

He went to brush past her, but she placed her hand out in front of him. Her scowl morphed into a smirk of her own and she leaned into him, her lips brushing his ear. "Make sure you save room for dessert later," she whispered seductively, holding in a giggle as the water bottle in his hand cracked loudly.

A faint blush appeared on his cheeks, and he rushed out of the room before his arousal became too evident, leaving Bulma to grin playfully. She relished in how easy it was to get him all hot and bothered. "So you had a good day with your daddy?" Bulma asked Bra as the demi-Saiyan retrieved a juice box out of the fridge.

"Mhm!" Bra said before taking a sip of her drink. "Daddy is a lot of fun!"

"He is fun, with certain things," Bulma responded absent-mindedly, checking text messages on her phone. She was rather surprised when she got one from Trunks, informing her that he got a new phone.

"Why the heck did Trunks get a new phone?! He JUST got one!" she raged, sending her son a dozen angry-face emojis.

"That's because Daddy broke it when Trunks was laughing at him," Bra responded, slurping loudly through her straw.

Bulma raised an eyebrow, looking up from her phone. "What? Why was Trunks laughing at your father?"

"Because he was wearing a tutu," Bra said casually.

It took all of Bulma's inner strength to keep herself from having a laughing fit. "He. . .was wearing a. . .tutu?"

"Yep, I told him he had to when I was practicing for my ballet recital."

"That's my girl," Bulma giggled, ruffling Bra's hair. She then walked over to the pantry and began collecting the items she would need to get lunch prepared, oblivious to the secretive smile Bra was directing at her.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, sweetie?" Bulma queried, opening up a loaf of bread.

"Daddy told me something before you came home, but he told me not to tell you."

"Why? Is it something bad?" Bulma probed, looking over her shoulder at Bra.

"Nooooooo," Bra drawled, knowing she probably shouldn't tell her mother, but she couldn't resist. "I was telling him about that story you read to me last night, and I asked if he's rescued you before, like the prince did with the princess in the book."

"And what did he say?" Bulma quizzed, holding her breath.

"He said that you were the one that saved him."

Everything in Bulma's hands fell to the ground. She clutched at her heart that had stopped beating momentarily. That was the last thing she expected Vegeta to say. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes.

"Mommy, are you okay?!"

Bulma nodded as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. That was the sweetest thing Vegeta had ever said! Her heart was about to explode from the intensity of surging emotions coursing throughout her body. True, he didn't want her to know about it, but still, the fact that he had even said that was enough to make her insides turn to jelly. She had always known that he loved her, despite him never verbally telling her, but knowing that he said something so uncharacteristically romantic _really_ made her giddy. Oh, yes, he would be getting one hell of a reward later in the evening.

"I hope Daddy won't be mad I told you," Bra said quietly, looking slightly worried.

"Oh, don't worry, sweetie," Bulma assured her, picking up the things she had dropped on the floor, "you won't be in any trouble at all."

* * *

Later that evening, Bulma was going through her bedtime ritual with Bra, making sure that she had brushed her teeth and changed into fresh pajamas before reading her a bedtime story. Trunks was out with his 'hot' date, though he had a curfew that he was given strict orders to follow that would prevent him from having _too_ much fun. Vegeta had just gotten out of the shower, feeling refreshed after spending a good portion of the day doing nothing but training. He changed into some boxers and a pair of sweatpants before flopping down onto the bed, burying his face into his pillow.

 _What a long day. . ._

"Hey, you."

He lifted his head up at the sound of Bulma's soft voice, seeing her standing in the doorway with a smile. "What is it, woman?" he asked, running a hand through his hair.

"Bra asked if she could speak with you before she goes to sleep," she informed him, approaching his side of the bed, peering down at him.

"Why?"

Bulma shrugged. "I don't know. She just asked me to come get you."

Vegeta instantly noticed the wide smile on Bulma's face. She smiled at him frequently, when they weren't arguing of course, so it wasn't an usual sight. But the smile on her face now was different than usual. She looked more at peace, more jovial. "Why do you have that impish grin on your face?"

She shrugged again. "No reason. Can't a girl just smile at her husband?"

"Hn," Vegeta grunted, looking her up and down, searching for an answer.

"Bra's waiting for you," Bulma reminded him, ignoring the interrogative look he was giving her. "Don't be gone too long. You'll be wanting your payment for babysitting, right?"

That made Vegeta instantly perk up. He smirked as he got to his feet, smoothly placing an arm around her hip and pressing her up against him. Bulma grinned up at him in response, placing her hands against his bare chest. He then positioned his hands on her buttocks and kissed her roughly, producing a needy moan from her. "I'll take that as a yes," she replied breathlessly as they pulled apart a few minutes later.

"I'm eager to see what form of payment you have in mind," he uttered huskily, running his tongue along her bottom lip before kissing her again, though this time it was much briefer.

"Mmm, you'll definitely enjoy it," she winked, trying to calm her arousal for the time being. "Now, go see Bra," she said, playfully pushing him off of her. "I'll be here when you get back."

"You better be," he smirked, smacking her ass before exiting the room, chuckling at Bulma's blushing face.

The walk to Bra's room was short, as she was only one door down from Bulma and Vegeta's room. The door was wide opened, so Vegeta strolled in and found his daughter tucked into her bed, her face barely visible beneath her pink comforter. Bra perked up immediately when she saw her father, sitting up straighter in the bed, ruffling her covers a bit. "Hi, Daddy," she grinned as he approached the edge of her bed and sat down next to her.

"Your mother said you wanted to have a word with me?"

Bra nodded in response. "I just wanted to let you know I had a lot of fun today!"

"Hn. Is that the only thing you wanted to tell me?" he questioned, crossing his arms.

"Um. . .well, there's something else, too," she spoke quietly, glancing over at the other side of the room, avoiding his inquiring stare.

The girl was just as transparent as her mother was, and Vegeta knew immediately by her actions that whatever she had to say couldn't be too good. "Well, go on, spit it out," he demanded, though his tone wasn't too severe.

"You know that thing you told me not to tell Mommy? Well. . .I did. . ."

 _GODDAMMIT!_

Vegeta pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to keep all of his inner screaming dialogue to himself. The child couldn't keep a secret to save her life, just like the other blue-haired female in his life. _So that's why the woman has been walking around all day with that goddamn grin on her face. It all makes sense now._

When Vegeta didn't say anything, Bra became anxious and squeezed her teddy bear tightly. Out of all her family members, she was the least likely to ever be at the receiving end of her father's wrath. It was a very rare occurrence for Bra to be the reason for Vegeta's anger; the tutu incident had been one of the only times he ever raised his voice at her. She didn't know what to expect. "Please don't be mad at me," she begged, gripping onto his forearm.

His dark eyes met with her sapphire ones. Vegeta let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding in and massaged his temples. Finally, he spoke. "I'm not mad, Bra."

"You sure?"

He gave her a curt nod.

"I'm sorry. . .I know you told me not to say anything to Mommy, but when I told her she was so happy," Bra smiled slowly, seeing Vegeta's outward frustration cease.

"Yes, I can tell by the way she's been acting," he responded, massaging the back of his neck with his hand. "But next time I tell you to keep something between us, you better do so. Do we understand each other?"

Bra nodded her head rapidly, her loose locks flying in every direction. "I promise!"

Vegeta grunted in acknowledgement and was about to stand up, but Bra flung herself into his arms, hugging him as tightly as she could, though Vegeta could barely feel it. "I love you, Daddy," she whispered into his chest.

The Saiyan Prince stared down at his daughter, feeling slightly awkward. Even after all these years had passed, he still wasn't the best at displays of affection. He patted Bra's back gently in return and sighed before standing up. He watched as the little girl readjusted herself back under her covers and nestled into her pillow, a small smile on her face. He could feel the corners of his lips curve upwards as he stared down at her. He knew he was too soft with the child, but for some reason it couldn't be helped.

"Goodnight, Daddy," she mumbled as her eyes closed shut.

"Goodnight," he replied, turning off the lamp on her nightstand, her nightlight across the room now being the only source of light in the darkness.

After exiting her room and closing the door quietly behind him, Vegeta returned to his room and froze in the doorway. Bulma was sitting up, clad in _very_ revealing lingerie, a mischievous grin planted on her face. "Are you ready for your reward?" she quizzed in her most seductive voice, batting her eyelashes. Vegeta shut the door behind him and then slowly, very slowly, made his way over to his side of the bed, Bulma's blue eyes watching every step he took. He crawled into bed and brought her into his lap, so that she was practically straddling him, her chest only inches away from his face.

He leaned in to kiss her, but Bulma pressed a finger to his lips, which instantly irritated the prince. "What is it, woman? The _last_ thing I want to be doing right now is talking."

"I know," she giggled at his frustration, her insides liquefying as his hot hands rested on her lower back, only inches above her behind. "But I just wanted to know what you and Bra talked about."

"Apparently she's an even bigger blabbermouth than you are. I didn't think that was even possible," he remarked snidely.

Bulma knew what he was referring to and her grin only intensified. "Well, I'm glad she told me. I think that what you said was the sweetest thing ever!"

Vegeta rolled his eyes and made a grumbling sound in response, his cheeks slightly tainted red.

"And besides," she began in a low voice, pushing him backwards, a move that Vegeta allowed with her puny strength, so that she was now on top of him, her hands on either side of his face, "knowing that you said something like that is only going to make this even more pleasurable for you. And that's a good thing, right?"

Vegeta smirked up at her before pressing his lips to hers, his hands roaming over her soft flesh. While there were certain parts of his day that were hardly tolerable (pink tutu, anyone?), babysitting his daughter hadn't been as bad as he imagined in his mind. And Bra had made him incredibly proud with her desire to train. She had a lot of characteristics similar to her mother, but her Saiyan traits were now becoming more prominent, and they would be even more evident once her training started.

He knew he should have been angrier with Bra for not being able to keep a secret, but he found himself not as enraged as he would have been if something like that occurred years ago. He was embarrassed at how those words had just slipped out of him so easily, but it wasn't hard to miss how happy it had made Bulma. He knew she would never let him live it down, which he was sure would become annoying, but he knew that what he said was true. If it weren't for Bulma and her unyielding loyalty, he didn't know where he would have ended up.

And now, this beautiful woman hovering over him was about to give him a night of passion that he wouldn't soon forget.

 _Maybe today wasn't too terrible after all._

-The End-


End file.
